


As Is

by Zhie



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, Dead elves, Halls of Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 13:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1649867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glorfindel is stuck in the Halls of Waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Is

**Author's Note:**

> Extremely Bunniverse. Glorfindel pining for Erestor. Well, darlings, that summarizes everything I write about Glorfindel pre-Fourth age, I suppose.

“Am I dead yet?”

“Yes.”

“Am I dead yet?”

“Yes.”

“Am I dead yet?”

Namo fought not to turn around and wring the neck of the impatient, frustrating ellon who had taken to following him about when he could and adjusted the newest tapestry on the wall. “Yes. And the answer to all of you subsequent questions is-“ Pausing, Namo could not see the smirk, not in the sense that anyone else could, but he could feel it, he knew what this little one was up to. His next question would be something to contradict the Lord of the Dead, and he had fallen into that trap more than enough times now to be mercilously teased by his wife and his brother for it. “The answer to the question, until the time you return to life, is yes, you are still dead.”

“What about tomorrow?” asked Glorfindel, latching onto Namo’s presence to follow him. There was no sight, no warmth, no sound, no taste, no smell, and yet, there was an essence of things, a flow that Glorfindel could follow. He had surprised Namo the first time by asking what was becoming ‘the usual question’. Unfortunately, it was difficult to find others to seek out; most wanted to be left alone. Some were still brooding, others were simply not inclined to speak to the one time elf lord about anything.

He had passed Ecthelion twice, though each time he approached he was driven back. Ecthelion was in a pit of self-loathing over the fall of the city, from what Vaire had told him. There were only three visitors to the halls other than the resident keeper himself – his wife, his brother, and his sister.

Glorfindel found Irmo delightful, but was soon told that there was little that could be provided to him. Unlike the others, Glorfindel was more aware than most, save only for Elros, whom had arrived some years prior. Elros had a keen wit, but he tired easily and oft Glorfindel could not find him anyhow. It was befuddling, for though Elros called himself a man, he somehow managed to linger and it was something the golden souled elf did not quite comprehend.

Vaire came only to see that her husband was alright and to bring her weavings. It pained Glorfindel not to be able to see them, but Namo explained once that his wife was really not a very good weaver. Whether this was true or only to make the blow of sightlessness lessened a little, Glorfindel did not contemplate for long.

By far, Nienna was his favorite. Only after accepting death could one heal in the halls – most of the residents, surprisingly, were in denial of some sort. Once that hurdle was cleared, the soul could be mended, and the mournful Nienna aided to that end.

“Glorfindel, I can feel your worry,” said the lady the first time he encountered her.

At first he thought she was Vaire, but soon he learned to tell the two apart. “I am looking for someone. Thankfully, I have not yet found him.”

“I know who you seek. Do not worry; he cannot die. Not like you. He would need to be unmade, and I do not think my father would do that to his youngest grandchild.”

“Oh.” That was the extent of the first conversation, but the thread was not lost in Glorfindel’s mind. The next time they spoke, which was more a sharing of thoughts and ideas, it was Glorfindel who began. “There are other grandchildren of Eru? Children of the Valar, like yourself.”

“Of course. Shall I name them for you?”

“Yes, please,” Glorfindel replied gratefully. This was early in his time in the halls, and after only finding a handful of others he knew. Unfortunately, this handful had included a perturbed Salgant and a very ornery elf he realized was Feanor. Salgant snapped and snarled like some wild creature and frightened Glorfindel into accidentally invading the private sanctuary of Feanor. At first, Feanor seemed to somewhat warily allow him to venture closer, but it took only one name to set him off.

“Erestor? Erestor!” The great elf roared in discontent. “If ever I should have slain another, it should have been him, for all the trouble he caused! Convincing Finarfin and the others to desert me, and then – then! To curse us! If I had known sooner what dark magic he could control, I would have left him to drown when we were children! I should have! Away, go, leave me in peace!”

So Nienna had found him in such a state, so confused and wanting to cry but unable to do such a thing. After a time of letting her weep for him and offering comfort, he asked his question, and then came the response.

“Meassa and Makar, Nornore, Nieliqui, Telumehtar, Fionwe, and Ress.”

“And Erestor,” added Glorfindel.

“Yes, he is there,” corrected Nienna.

That was when Glorfindel realized what she meant. “That is the name for him here! That is his Valarin name, is it not?”

“If that is what you wish to call it. Yes, that is the name given him by his father.” Nienna tried to sway the conversation back once again to Glorfindel’s griefs, which were many, but he often led her back to further discussion regarding the peredhel.

At the moment, however, Nienna was not around. Glorfindel continued to pester Namo. “You know, if you let me go, you need not listen to my whining any more.”

“If I let you go this instant, what will you do without a body? How will you accomplish anything in spirit form? Nay, Glorfindel, you stay here,” Namo told him sternly.

“Where is the door? There must be a door...” mused the ellon. “Once I find it-“

“My patience with you is wearing thin, but still I advise against your use of the door,” warned Namo. “As much as I would like to be rid of your constant yammering, if you leave without being reborn, you leave without a body. Do you really want to be a spirit, a ghost who can do no more than haunt the living?”

Glorfindel might have shivered if he could have. “No, sir, that is not what I desire,” he admitted solemnly. “But have you not kept me here long enough?”

“I do not decide that.”

“Who does?” Glorfindel waited, but no answer came forth. His boredom caused a change in topic. “When you mean reborn, do you mean from birth?”

“Until children spring full grown from their parents, yes, from birth,” Namo affirmed.

This gave Glorfindel something new to ponder. “Does that mean that I will come back as a tiny little elfling again? Soiling diapers and drooling all over myself?”

“Yes,” answered Namo. “Perhaps you should find a quiet place to practice these things.”

Glorfindel was so quiet that Namo nearly thought his advice had been taken. “Babies... they... they seem not to know a whole lot.”

“Your memories would be gone, for a time. You would regain them after a hundred years or so,” Namo explained.

At this, Glorfindel panicked. Had he a stomach, he was sure he would have thrown up the contents. “I... I really... I do not want to forget! I... I want to keep all of me, all of my... all of my thoughts and feelings.”

“Then you will not be reborn,” answered Namo simply.

His soul quivering, Glorfindel tensed and began to beg. “My lord, please, no, I need to return. I need to go back! But do not make me live it all over again!”

“Your childhood would be different – we would find other parents for you. We are very good about that,” assured Namo as Nienna arrived. Glorfindel never knew how very close to the door he was.

“No! I cannot take that chance again!”

“And you do not have to. You may dwell here, and never worry again.”

“But – you do not understand! I... I need him! I love him! Oh, Eru, it hurts to be here! I need to go back, but not as a child! Please!” Glorfindel pleaded.

Nienna stepped in, taking Glorfindel away from Namo. “Hush, peace now, Glorfindel. You are still healing; you cannot go back yet,” she crooned.

“I need to... I have to...” Glorfindel clung to her, trying to calm down.

Soothing him the best she could, Nienna called out to her other brother, and soon Irmo was there. “You need to rest, Glorfindel. You have not done that often since you came here.”

“I do not want to sleep,” argued Glorfindel.

“But you need to sleep. Now hush, rest.” Nienna let the youngest take over while she went to consult with Namo. “There must be a way for us to send him back without having him reborn,” she suggested.

“I know of no other way,” Namo said. “But tell me if you have a solution; he is not ready to return yet.”

“He will never fully heal if he stays here,” she said adamantly.

Namo shook his head. “But he will never fully heal if he returns, either.”


End file.
